


What Must Be Done

by skyguyandsnips, Sokaless



Series: Star Wars: the Clone Wars RP Collection [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Angst, Drama, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-07
Updated: 2014-03-07
Packaged: 2018-01-14 21:30:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1279576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyguyandsnips/pseuds/skyguyandsnips, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sokaless/pseuds/Sokaless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Written before the premiere of any of the final four episodes of season five, this is an alternate take on Ahsoka Tano's arrest and trial. There's no mention of Barriss' betrayal, or the Council expelling Ahsoka from the Order, as those details were unknown to us then.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Must Be Done

**Author's Note:**

> Like Prank War, this is a roleplay by me and Sokaless—albeit a much darker (and also older) one. As before, the switches between Anakin and Ahsoka's POVs might be jarring at first, but after a while it's something one normally gets used to. For those of you who are curious, this really _was_ written before any of the finale arc came out (just after the first trailer for it was released, actually.) Enjoy!

 Ahsoka pulled herself to the top of the cliff, panting. That climb had taken longer than she'd expected it would, even with the Force. She placed her palms on her thighs as she tried to catch her breath, knowing that her Master was close on her heels.

…if he even _was_ her Master anymore.

 _Don’t think like that_ , she chided herself. Just because most of the Jedi Order thought she was guilty of everything from terrorism to _murder_ didn’t mean Anakin did.

Anakin watched as his Padawan disappeared onto the roof of the skyscraper and hardened his resolve. He needed to talk to her, to find out where they stood. With a giant leap, he gently landed on top of the skyscraper and became face to face with the girl whose face was all over the holonet.

"Ahsoka," he said, voice weaker than he'd hoped it would be, "stop."

Ahsoka wanted to be shocked when her Master's voice rang through the late afternoon air, but she wasn't.

"Stop _what_ , Master?" she asked, daring him to tell her to call him something else. But even though his face was hard and his mental defenses strong, she could feel the torrent of pain lurking just behind those walls. And even though it hurt to admit it, the same went for her.

Anakin took a daring step closer.

"You ran from the Temple," he said quietly. "You've teamed up with _Ventress_ of all people… Ahsoka, I want to believe you haven't done anything wrong, but there's so much evidence against you! What are you doing?"

Ahsoka could feel their bond crumbling. It was already a shadow of its former self.

"I did what I had to do, Master. The Council _and_ Chancellor Palpatine were going to kill me for a crime I didn't commit! I tried cooperating." She paused. "And as you know, that didn't exactly work out."

Anakin studied her, reaching out into their bond to get a better sense of what she was thinking. It was so frayed and damaged that he could no longer tell.

"Prove to me you didn't do it," he told her. "Put down your lightsabers."

Ahsoka tried to keep any visible signs of stress off her face, but failed, mouth twitching nervously. Her lightsabers had been the only constant, the only thing she could be well and truly sure of in all this mess. They reminded her of who she was—and who she could return to being.

"That doesn't prove anything," she said softly. Still, she obliged and set her lightsabers on the ground.

Anakin let out a breath. Maybe it didn't prove her innocence, but it was a sign of trust, and he was glad they still had a small measure of that.

"What do you plan to do now?" he asked her.

Ahsoka's hands hung at her sides. "I don't know." She gave her lightsabers a long look. What was she without the Jedi—without her Master? She didn't know, and honestly didn't want to find out. "…what happened when I blacked out on Mortis?"

Anakin froze. He didn't want to think about this now—the fact that Ahsoka _had_  been capable of blowing up the Temple at one point scared him. He often wondered to himself, what if there was still a part of the dark side left in her from Mortis? What if she still _was_ capable of such a dark act?

He shifted uncomfortably. "Do you really want to talk about this _now_?" he asked her, a little more sharply than intended.

"Yes." Ahsoka had obviously hit a nerve, and she intended to find out why. She crossed her arms. "Because to be honest, I think that's when it started falling apart."

She didn't have to mention their bond by name for Anakin to know what she was talking about. Well, she hoped so.

Running his hand through his hair, Anakin looked around them. There was no one there, but he could see searchlights in the distance. They had time. Not much, but it would be enough.

"There was… well, I believe it was a type of poison that the Son used on you when he took you. I don't know exactly what it did to you, but it made you act… different." Anakin closed his eyes, remembering. The bond frayed a little more. "Darker."

Ahsoka closed her eyes as well. "He bit me," she said simply, struggling to keep Anakin's words from eating at her. He wasn’t done yet.

Anakin’s eyes flew open again and he glanced at her. "That bite must have contained some sort of dark side poison, because you turned on me. We… fought; you and me. It wasn't just a spar—it was an actual duel. At one point, the Son and Daughter came outside. And then… and then the Son killed you." Anakin tried to keep the emotion from his tone, but he couldn't stop his voice from cracking on the last sentence.

It was breaking. Ahsoka could feel it. Their bond would be gone before this conversation was over.

"Why?" She sank to the ground. “Why didn't you _tell_ me? Is it because you didn't trust me? Because you thought I couldn't _handle_ it? Or was it just another lie—which you seem to think are a credit a dozen!" Her voice rose with every word, till she was screaming at Anakin. She’d never done that before. " _Why didn't you tell me the truth, Master_?"

"Because you shouldn't have to remember!" Anakin shouted. "I wish I could forget fighting you. I wish I could forget watching you die. At least one of us was spared remembering, and I wanted to keep it that way. Force, Ahsoka, you don't know what it was _like_. I thought I'd lost you. And when the Daughter gave you her life force and brought you back to life, I just wanted to put it behind me. I don't want to remember." He turned away. "And neither should you."

Ahsoka's fingernails raked along the ground as she pulled her hands into fists.

"Classic Anakin Skywalker,” she said, standing. There was a dangerous edge to her voice. "Always deciding who should and shouldn't know the truth." Without another word she called her lightsabers to her hands and ignited them. She kicked at Anakin before he could react, pinning him effectively to the ground. "I do know what it feels like, _Master._ I'm not the only one who went to the dark side on Mortis."

Anakin stared up at his—former?—Padawan in shock. "I—what? Ahsoka, what are you talking about?" There was a cold knot settling in his stomach. She… _couldn't_ have meant what he thought she did…

Ahsoka looked him directly in the eye. "You heard me, Anakin." She could only go so far calling him master at this point, though it killed her inside. "You joined the Son on Mortis. Is it really that unbelievable?"

 _Yes._ Yes it was. But she was too angry to acknowledge that.

Anakin started to push Ahsoka off of him. Emotions were swirling through him, making it difficult to think straight.

He clenched his fists. "You're lying. I didn't. I wouldn't!"

She needed to stop talking. The anger was rising in him again, uncontrollable. The air around them was electric with the dark side radiating off them both.

With no time to scream in frustration, Ahsoka did a backflip off of Anakin’s chest in order to avoid being knocked down.

"You never believe me," she snapped, aware of how immature she sounded. She didn't care. It was high time she got to be a child. If not now, when? “You seem awfully upset for someone trying to dismiss a teenage girl.” She could feel his anger, and it scared her. Still, she pushed on. “And you wouldn’t— _really_? Sorry, but you can’t make this stuff up.”

Anakin tried to keep his hands by his side, instead of going for his lightsaber. His mind was smothered with anger and horror and some part of him was screaming at him to cut down the liar and leave her for the clones to find.

"What do you want from me?" he asked, aware that his voice sounded low and dangerous.

Ahsoka hesitated. What _did_ she want from Anakin? She was poking and prodding around in his head and pushing his buttons, but why? Her life was already enough of a miserable hell—did she really want the only person who could help her fix it become yet another person to run from?

“I want you to accept the truth.” She dropped into a ready stance, just in case. “I have never lied when it _mattered_ , Anakin Skywalker. I did want to tell you what had happened on Mortis. But Obi-Wan stopped me, because he just didn’t want you to know. And I don’t blame him."

 _Obi-Wan_.

Anakin snarled and began pacing back and forth.

"Of course it was him. Of course. And you just… went along with it? Have I not taught you to make your own decisions? Higher authority is not always right, you _know_ that." _What is happening to us_? Anakin wondered. They were falling apart. It was a freefall in the dark and Anakin didn't know if they would land safely, or crash. At this rate, it was looking to be a crash.

"What's that supposed to mean? Obi-Wan _is_ a good Jedi. Better than most, who would have told you." Ahsoka’s voice was starting to lose its edge. “Including me. And it would do you some good to listen to authority figures. Even if you’d just read the Jedi Code once in awhile. You seem have to forgotten about the no-attachment rule—especially when it comes to a certain Senator.”

Anakin went very still. This was  _not_ good. She couldn't possibly know anything about Padmè… right?

"And my young Padawan, what exactly are you implying?" he asked her through clenched teeth.

"That you—" Ahsoka deactivated her lightsabers, arms aching from holding them so still for so long, "—have feelings for Senator Amidala." She swallowed, knowing she had gone too far. There wasn't any taking this back.

Oh _no_.

This is what he had always feared. That someone would find out their secret. Ahsoka would tell the Council, once her name was cleared—of course she would, she was too good of a Jedi to keep it a secret. And fear for his relationship, fear for what would happen to _Padmè_ once the news got out began to spread through him, burning the walls of his anger.

The walls cracked like a dam and Anakin slowly ignited his lightsaber. "I won't let you tell anyone. I'm sorry Ahsoka."

When her—former—Master’s blue blade hissed into view, Ahsoka’s heart began to race. She never had been scared of dying, but this was not simply _dying_. This was being destroyed. She suddenly felt very small, because she knew what the Knight was capable of when his anger and fear were spurring him on.

And now, it all was directed toward _her_.

Activating her own weapons, Ahsoka fell into that attack stance again. “Whatever you say, Skyguy,” she said, voice barely audible.

Anakin launched himself forward to bring his single blade down on both of hers. As soon as their lightsabers crashed together, Anakin felt whatever was left of their bond twist sharply in his head, then shatter.

It was a pain unlike any he had ever experienced before. For a brief second, white-hot agony ran along their bond, and he could feel Ahsoka’s pain as well, just before the bond broke. They had destroyed it—there was nothing left. Just an empty void.

And that was it. Ahsoka was simply just another Jedi.

Or, that's what he told himself. He couldn't let himself believe otherwise.

 _She was your sister once_ , a voice in his head reminded him. _Do you remember when you would do anything to save her? Do you remember a time before Mortis, before the bond became troubled, when you two would laugh and joke together? What happened to you two? What happened to Skyguy and Snips?_

 _Quiet!_ Anakin shouted at the voice in his head and brought his lightsaber down on Ahsoka's again.

Ahsoka twisted away just as the bond well and truly snapped. At the same time, Anakin's lightsaber rained down in one precise stroke. And that was nearly the end of her. But she dodged and rolled, coming up a few feet away. Her breaths came quick and shallow as she struggled to piece the crushing emptiness of her mind back together.

The world dipped and swam into little spots before her eyes, and for a moment she wished Anakin would just end her where she stood. She didn’t want to live like this. Force, she almost didn’t want to _die_ like that. She didn’t want Anakin Skywalker to be just another Jedi.

She swung her leg at his ankles before straightening and flipping out of the way. “You’re fighting with fear, Master.” Somehow, she kept her voice from wavering with the nausea surging through her. “How exactly do you think you’re going to kill me that way?”

 _Could_ he kill her? Anakin jumped out of the way of her leg and frowned at her as she leaped away from him. Could he really kill Ahsoka? Could he even injure her?

 _You started this, Skywalker_ , he told himself. _Now finish it._

They were fighting dangerously close to the edge of the roof now. Anakin spared a glance down, remembering how hard it was to climb up. A fall like that would certainly kill a person, even a Jedi. He crushed his fear down and struck viciously at the Padawan.

"You aren't exactly doing any different," Anakin snapped. "We're a lot alike, you and I. This—" He gestured between them, knowing Ahsoka would mean their Master/Padawan bond. "—was never going to end well.

 _Does he really think that?_ Ahsoka continued to duck and roll as she blocked Anakin’s attacks, just as aware of the roof’s edge as he was.

“True. But we both know there’s a huge difference between us.” She slammed her blade on the bionic wrist of Anakin’s sword hand, going just deep enough to short it out.

His lightsaber fell to the ground and deactivated with a clang. 

Ahsoka held her weapon not centimeters away from his chest, the edge of the roof right behind him. “And that difference is this: I am a Jedi and _you_  are not. You’re just a slave from the Outer Rim who had a few extra midichlorians. You became a Jedi because of who you are. I became a Jedi because of what I have the potential to _do_.”

And something in Anakin just _snapped_. He used his remaining hand to Force push his apprentice to the ground, sending her lightsabers skittering away. Then, he curled his fingers into a fist and watched as Ahsoka struggled to breathe. He lifted her off the ground with the Force-hold and looked her in the eye.

"Don't," he hissed, "talk about what you don't understand, _Padawan._ " He spat the word out like it was a curse. Her feet were dangling over the edge of the roof, but Anakin found that with the anger coursing through him that he didn't care. "You might end up getting hurt," he whispered darkly, then released her from his hold.

Ahsoka genuinely screamed as Anakin released her. But then her training kicked in and she latched onto the edge of the rooftop, pulling close to the hard, cold stone. She knew she would find no comfort there, and even less in Anakin Skywalker, but it calmed her as she struggled to slow the pounding in her heart and head.

Her eyes flicked to Anakin’s high-traction soled boots, and she willed herself not to imagine they would be the last thing she ever felt with her fingers.

Anakin willed his feet to move forward. All it would take was some pressure applied to her fingers and she would fall.

 _Do it_ , he willed himself. But his feet refused to move. He looked wordlessly down at her as she hugged the stone as if it were a lifeline. She looked so… _vulnerable_. And his anger with her cooled a little.

Ahsoka sensed that his anger was receding and it took every ounce of self-control she possessed not to whoop. Not because she planned to use it against Anakin, but because there was a smaller chance he was going to kill her.

It was so funny—in a terrible, terrible way—how much everything had changed.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly, pulling herself higher and propping herself up with her elbows. Now she chanced a kick to the face. Still, she _was_ sorry. She had pushed Anakin’s buttons just because she could—just because she was angry.

And that was against the Code if anything ever was.

Anakin blinked at her. Then, slowly, he knelt down at the edge of the roof. They must have been an odd sight, he thought, Ahsoka hanging off the skyscraper with him kneeling over her, not helping her, but not killing her either. He called his lightsaber to his hand, just in case she tried to attack him to free herself, but didn't ignite it.

"What are we doing?" he asked her, quietly.

“Going off on each other,” Ahsoka said, drawing circles in the dust at the roof’s edge. They were getting each other back for every little thing, for every passive-aggressive comment and lie and… well, _everything_. Her by picking at him where it hurt most, him by dropping her off a skyscraper.

Anakin watched her silently. He didn't let her up, but he could feel his anger turning into shame. He supposed this had been inevitable, ever since the bond had first shown signs of fraying on Mortis. Was this the answer? A physical attack? It slowly dawned on him. _I attacked Ahsoka. I could have killed her._ Guilt tore at him, more painful than a lightsaber burn. He stood, backing away from the roof's edge. “I…”

He found that he couldn't look at her. What could he do now to repair the damage they had done to themselves?

“Don't follow me,” he ordered. Then, using the Force, he leaped from that skyscraper to a different, smaller one and descended it, down and down until he was away from Ahsoka, away from the memories of the dark side.

Ahsoka couldn’t pull herself up fast enough. “Anaki— _Master_ , wait,” she pleaded, tearing after him but unable to keep up. She called her lightsabers to her hands, clipping them onto her belts. “Where are you—”

She skidded to a stop as he disappeared. It was dark now, and her chances of finding him were slim. “ _Don’t follow me._ ” What did he mean by _that_? They couldn’t fix things by running from each other.

Anakin raced through the shadows of Coruscant, not caring where he was going. He could hear Ahsoka shouting after him. _Why does she care?_ he wondered. If he was her, he would be happy to be as far from him as possible. Maybe, if he ran fast enough, he could escape his own skin.

The searchlights swept overhead, passing over him. Had Ahsoka followed him? He fleetingly hoped so—the clones would have a harder time finding her in the Underworld.

Why had Anakin run away? Why did he _always_ run, just before they had a breakthrough? Desperately, she tried reaching into their non-existent bond, trying to find him. Nothing. Just silence. The silence of something that wasn’t there.

“Kriff, Anakin.” Her Master was gone—and there was nothing she could do about it.

* * *

 

Anakin felt some of his tension melt away as he jumped up to Padmè’s landing pad. This was familiar, this was normal, this was _home._ Padmè didn’t judge him for his wrongdoings. She would help him.

“Oh, hello, Master Anakin,” Threepio greeted him, opening the door. “How wonderful to see you—”

“Is Padmè here?” Anakin cut across him.

“Yes, but she is resting in her room and no one is to disturb her right now.”

Anakin pushed past the droid and up the stairs without another word. He knew Padmè wouldn’t mind. They hadn’t seen each other in over a week, after all.

The Senator was sitting in a chair, reading from a datapad when he entered. She looked up and a smile spread across her face. “Anakin!”

They embraced. Anakin hugged her tightly, but she soon pulled back. “Is something wrong? Why are you here?”

Anakin gripped her arms, just looking at her for a moment. Then he turned away. “I’ve made a big mistake—and I have no idea how to fix it.”

“Mistake?” Padmè sat back down in her chair, concerned. What was Anakin up to this time? “Does this have anything to do with Ahsoka?”

Anakin nodded. “You’ve seen the news, right? You know about the Temple explosion, the fact that the Council thinks _Ahsoka_ is responsible for it…”

That still made Anakin mad. How could a Padawan—a _Padawan_ —be responsible for such a dark act? Especially Ahsoka?

“I finally found Ahsoka this afternoon,” he told her. “I just wanted to _talk_ to her… work everything out, but we ended up… arguing." He wouldn’t tell her exactly what Ahsoka had said to him. About him turning to the dark side—even only briefly. Or her remarks about him being a lesser Jedi than her. He continued. “And then the argument turned physical.”

Padmè audibly winced. What could have made either of the Jedi outright _fight_ each other? She’d seen the duo in action—they were like two halves of the same person. For each other, not against.

“I suspected as much,” she said softly. “What happened, Ani?”

Anakin was silent for a while. “I overreacted,” he said finally. “We exchanged hurtful words and I ended up drawing my lightsaber on her. I could…” he broke off and began pacing. “I could have _killed_ her, Padmè! I very nearly did!”

Jumping to her feet, Padmè sent Anakin a sharp look. “Ani! What could she have possibly done or said that warranted… _that_?” She gave her husband’s lightsaber a long look. He had never known the meaning of disproportionate retribution.“You didn’t—”

“No,” Anakin said quickly. He shuddered. “I couldn’t. But Padmè… she knows. She knows we’re married. I don’t know how she knows, or for how long, but she knows.” He could feel her shock and horror through the Force upon hearing about his actions and knew he deserved everything she could possibly say to him.

Padmè swallowed, stiffening. And for one moment, she was afraid. For herself, for her husband… for everything.

“She would never tell, Ani,” Padmè said softly, laying a hand on his cheek. “And even if she would, it’s her choice to make. Not yours. Not mine.”

Padmè was right. Of course she was. But she had never understood his anger, or why he got so angry. The only one who did understand was Palpatine, but Anakin wasn’t sure the Chancellor was on his side this time. He was pushing for more clones to go out and capture his Padawan.

“I know,” Anakin admitted. “How do I fix this? I think I’ve destroyed our bond, Padmè, and I have no idea how to get it back.”

Some things about the Jedi Padmè didn’t understand—you didn’t just outright _break_ a bond during one fight or confrontation—but she didn’t care to comment.

“If I know either of you, she apologized and then you decided to run because it was all too much.” She paused. “So you need to go find her. And apolo—” Suddenly, Anakin’s comm sounded with a distinctive beep. It took everything Padmè had for her not to roll her eyes. She couldn’t stand that sound.

Anakin sighed and raised the comm. “Skywalker, here,” he said flatly.

“General, we have the traitor,” came the voice of a clone.

Anakin froze. Ahsoka.

_Oh no._

“Where is she?” he barked into the device.

“The squad is bringing her back to the Temple now sir, where she will await her trial.”

“I’m on my way,” Anakin said, lowering the comlink. He turned back to Padmè, head feeling clearer. Maybe now he could be _useful._ “Sorry to cut this short,” he told her, “but I have to go.”

* * *

 

“Keep it moving, _traitor_ .” The clone jabbed the small of Ahsoka’s back with the barrel of his blaster. Ahsoka stumbled, but kept walking. She was getting angrier with every step.  
 _  
I’ll have to be more considerate the next time I’m handling a prisoner—this is_ no _fun_ . She grit her teeth, pulling slightly at the cuffs holding her hands tightly behind her back. Of course, it was useless. They weren’t going to give—not now, not _ever_.

* * *

 

Anakin steered his borrowed speeder as fast as he could through traffic. The Temple was looming in the distance, with its spires rising up over the skyline. Normally, he found it to be a beautiful sight, but today, he couldn’t enjoy it with the knowledge that the Jedi were holding his Padawan captive.

For the first time, he was against them.

* * *

 

Ahsoka sat on the floor of her cell, trying to meditate despite the handcuffs. Her anxiety was eating at her, countless questions bouncing around in her head. Would they kill her? Or just give her ten life sentences? Or—even worse—fifteen? Twenty?

She let out a frustrated sigh, opening her eyes. Even though her Master had run off, she hoped that just this once, he wouldn’t show up too late. “Come on, Skyguy…”

* * *

 

Anakin ran through the Senate halls and took the lift tubes down to where the courtroom was. Ahsoka hadn’t been in the cells and the clone standing guard had informed him that she had been taken away just before he arrived. Trial before the Senate… that was big. That meant that Palpatine himself would be present.

At the courtroom doors, Anakin tried to enter, only to be blocked by the guards.

“I am a Jedi,” he said, drawing himself up to his full height. “I order you to let me in!”

“I am sorry, sir,” one of the guards said, “but we have been given strict orders by Master Windu not to allow you access to this courtroom.”

Anakin silently cursed the Jedi Master and glared at the guards. Panic was rising in him. How was he going to help Ahsoka now?

* * *

 

There was something oppressive about the grey metal walls of the courtroom. They seemed to press down on Ahsoka, reminding her just how hopeless this situation was.

“Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so the Force help you?” Admiral Tarkin said, his voice oozing with contempt on the last few words. He wasn’t exactly a fan of the Jedi Order. In his hands he held a battered copy of The Jedi Path. _Ahsoka’s_ copy of The Jedi Path.

“I do,” Ahsoka said quietly, taking her own hands off of her heart and—more reluctantly—the book. She was sorely tempted to snatch it from the slimeball that stood before her, but that would be disruptive behavior. Still. Anakin had given it to her a couple months after she was apprenticed to him, and it was one of her most prized possessions.

* * *

 

Anakin was debating on whether he should break down the door when suddenly, Admiral Tarkin’s voice echoed around him. Anakin turned to see a screen flicker to life behind him.

 _They’re broadcasting her trial on the holonet,_ he realized. _They want the public to realize that the attacker has been caught._

Tarkin, it appeared, was leading the trial while the Chancellor watched silently from above them on a platform. Ahsoka was standing tall before the Admiral, and even from the screen, Anakin could see her eyeing Tarkin with contempt.

* * *

 

Palpatine rapped his gavel on the large metal table before him. It echoed throughout the room, sending a tingling sensation down Ahsoka’s spine.

“Republic case 09863-589863 for multiple charges, otherwise known as Tano versus the Galactic Republic—begin.” Palpatine set the gavel back down and leaned into his chair to watch the show.

Tarkin didn’t waste a second, inclining his head towards the Chancellor before turning sharply around to stare Ahsoka down again. “The charges are as follows: Arson, Terrorism, Murder and Treason. Each with a maximum sentence of death _or_ life in prison. Do you acknowledge this?”

Ahsoka could barely keep up with it all. This trial wasn’t going to be fair, and the sheer amount of things they’d managed to accuse her of was mind-boggling. It made her wonder if she should even speak at all.

“I—please repeat the question.” She mentally kicked herself as Tarkin did just that.

 _This isn’t a_ spelling bee, _Tano._

* * *

 

Anakin winced as the trial continued. His Padawan looked quite overwhelmed—that wasn’t good. She needed to keep it together or Tarkin would label her behavior as suspicious.

Footsteps sounded in the corridor behind him and he turned to see Mace Windu striding toward him. Anakin turned away from the screen. “Take back your order,” he demanded, not caring if he sounded like a child. “Let me in—let me help her.”

“The Council does not believe you can handle this trial without your emotions clouding your head,” the older Jedi said stiffly. “You need a clear mind, Skywalker, and for this case, your mind is not clear.”

“She’s _innocent!_ ” Anakin hissed. “This is unfair—putting a Padawan on an adult trial. What does the Council hope to gain by doing this?”

Windu’s face could have been carved from stone. “The evidence clearly pointed to your Padawan and we are acting as we would with any adult that had committed the same crime.”

Anakin tried to keep his anger under control. “You’re so convinced that it was Ahsoka that you won’t even consider the possibility that it wasn’t her. The evidence could have been planted… or tampered with—”

“Calm yourself, Skywalker,” Windu told him. “As a teacher, you need to be prepared to let go of your student. And not let your emotions blind you to their wrongdoings.”

“I’m not,” Anakin said in a low voice, and he didn’t know if he was talking about letting go of Ahsoka, or letting his emotions blind him. Both, he supposed.

He turned away from the Jedi Master and back to the screen, where the trial was progressing.

* * *

 

Tarkin waved a plastic bag in Ahsoka’s face. Its only contents were what looked like the shards of a bomb that had been detonated. “Do you recognize this?”

Ahsoka drew back with a frown. “I do. But I’ve never actually _used one_ .” She glared as Tarkin started to turn back to Palpatine. “I didn’t finish. _Anyway_ , the clones use them all the time.”

“And what do they do with them?” Tarkin looked unimpressed as he continued waving the bag around.

“…blow stuff up?” Ahsoka bit her lip to keep from laughing. That would only make things worse.

Tarkin raised an eyebrow at the Padawan’s attitude and set down the bag. Next, he picked up a datapad and read aloud for everyone to hear. “This is from the forensics droid’s report of the crime scene. ‘Fingerprints that match those of Ahsoka Tano were found in crime scene. Security footage shows hooded figure, approximately five feet, five inches tall, entering the west corridor and setting the bomb.’ Tell me, Padawan Tano, did you really think we wouldn’t check the security cameras? The figure matches your height and build and your fingerprints were found on-scene. What do you have to say for yourself?”

It was Ahsoka’s turn to raise an eyemarking. She crossed her arms, trying to look unimpressed. Her anxiety was starting to wear off, for better or for worse. She wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

“I’m five feet, _six_ inches tall, Admiral.” Well, she _was_. Maybe five feet, 5.7743 inches was more accurate, but she didn’t have time to rattle off that many numbers.

Tarkin allowed himself a small smile. He was going to enjoy this. He pulled up a holorecording of the security footage and pressed play. The footage showed a hooded figure creeping down the west corridor, frequently looking behind it. The figure carefully took an object from its cloak and set it down in the shadows. Just as the figure turned to leave, Tarkin paused the recording.

“As you can see,” he announced, “it is impossible to see who is under the cloak. Unless you have one of these.”

He held up an analysis retriever, then waved it in front of the hologram. Slowly, the darkness peeled back to reveal a face. Tarkin smirked at the Padawan as he held up the recording, which clearly showed Ahsoka as the figure that had set the bomb.

Ahsoka wanted to disappear. How the _Force_ did they come up with that? She gripped the heather grey material of her pants leg, trying to find words that didn’t—wouldn’t—come.

Palpatine looked amused. “I see Padawan Tano has become… _tongue tied_.” He rapped the gavel on the table again. “Trial is as of now on a thirty minute recess.”

* * *

 

Anakin stared blankly at the screen as the court adjourned. Had it _really_ been Ahsoka? How did you fake something like that? It would have needed Palpatine’s approval to appear in court, so obviously it was valid evidence.

 _She couldn’t have,_ he thought desperately. _She’s not a bad person. She’s not like me._

Anakin turned and stalked down the corridor.

“Skywalker!” Windu called after him. “Where are you going?”

“To see my Padawan,” Anakin replied shortly. “And when I come back, I want an explanation on why she is being treated like this. Where is her lawyer? Why is she being tried as an adult?”

He continued on his way before Windu could respond.

* * *

 

Anakin slowed down as he entered the cell block. What was he going to say to her? He sincerely doubted that _sorry for almost dropping you off that skyscraper_ was going to cut it.

Windu obviously hadn’t had time to order the guards around down here, because they let him through right away. He stepped into the shadowy cell and swallowed hard.

“Snips…?”

Ahsoka sat in the darkest corner of all, her legs pulled to her chest and arms wrapped tightly around them.

“Don’t come in,” she snapped, ducking her head down so her face was hidden. Her voice had come off much harsher than intended. She wasn’t guilty. She knew that. But she just didn’t want to be looked at right then.

Anakin awkwardly hovered by the door. He’d never been in a fight like this before, one that actually required him to apologize.

_How do I fix this?_

“Look, I know you don’t want to see me.” He laughed, a bitter sound. “I don’t blame you. Because I don’t think I’ll ever be able to apologize enough to make up for what I did.” He went on quickly before she could say anything. “I still believe you’re innocent.”

Ahsoka said nothing for the longest time, the only sound in the cell her and Anakin’s breathing. His was mostly normal. A little loud, but normal. Hers was shallow and chaotic, like she was trying to run from something. And… she was trying to run from something. _This entire situation, for starters._

Finally, she lifted her head. “Do you know how it feels to be Force choked non-fatally, Master? It feels like your head is going to implode. Like _you_ are going to implode.” She paused. Anakin wasn’t interrupting her, so she continued. “But like I said, it isn’t fatal. You get dropped. You start breathing again. Your head stops its countdown… and you forgive.”

Anakin figured that getting Force-choked would probably feel better than what he was feeling right now.

“I overreacted,” he said. “It’s not the Jedi way to get that angry—I know that—but sometimes I can’t stop. And then someone else pays the price.”

Hesitantly, he stepped further into the cell. “I’m sorry. I know…” He stopped and tried again. “I know that we probably can’t go back to the way things were before all… this. But, if we ever get out of this mess, I was hoping that we could try and work together again.”

Ahsoka blinked. _Would_ she ever be able to work with Anakin again if she got out of this? She didn’t know.

Wordlessly, she searched her mind. Looking for something. But what? _There_. That crushing emptiness in the back of her head was receding. Just a tiny bit. Still, it was enough.

 _I would like that_. She hoped Anakin’s mind wouldn’t repel her, though she wouldn’t blame it if it did.

At first, Anakin wasn’t even sure he had heard it. Perhaps he had imagined it. He closed his eyes as something stirred in the back of his mind.

_I would like that._

Anakin couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face. Things were still bleak and Anakin wasn’t sure how they would get out of their current situation, but the fact that they still had a trace of the bond brought him a measure of hope.

_Thank you._

* * *

 

Soon after they’d managed to patch up the bond, Anakin talked to Master Windu over his comm. Though he sounded reluctant, Jedi Master had decided to let the Knight in the courtroom, and he was to escort Ahsoka there.

The guards handcuffed her again, but Ahsoka couldn’t keep a stupid grin off her face as they returned to court.

“Court is in session,” Palpatine said, eyeing Ahsoka’s smile as the Master and Padawan sat. He slammed the gavel down again and nodded at Tarkin.

Anakin watched Tarkin quietly as the other man shuffled his notes.

“As the hologram clearly showed, Padawan Ahsoka Tano was the one to plant the bomb in the Temple corridor. Upon seeing the terrible damage done to the… beautiful and sacred Temple, I find myself wholeheartedly recommending a verdict.” Tarkin turned a glare on Ahsoka and Anakin found himself rethinking his opinions on the Admiral.

“Find the criminal guilty and let justice be served!” Tarkin shouted. There was a murmur of agreement from the jury and Anakin found his hope fading away.

“Is there anything we can do, anything at all, to prove that whoever that was impersonated you?” Anakin asked his Padawan.

There was a pit in Ahsoka’s stomach, and she barely registered Anakin’s words as Tarkin’s propaganda replayed over and over in her head.

“I don’t know.” She squeezed her eyes shut. And then they snapped open. “Hardeen. Rako Hardeen… remember? The chemical they used to turn Obi-Wan into him?”

“Of course,” Anakin breathed. He had to hand it to whoever framed Ahsoka… they had really thought their plan through. It was nearly foolproof. “But how do we prove it? There’s not enough _time…_ they’ll deliver the verdict and send you back to your cell.”

“Or wherever they plan to execute me,” Ahsoka intoned. Ugh, if only they had more _time_. But they didn’t. All it took was a couple more minutes of Tarkin rattling off some blatant lies nobody but her and Anakin would see through and she was dead.

And where did Palpatine fit in all of this? Surely, if he was such a good guy—like Anakin always told her—the trial would have been… _fairer_. Or something.

Anakin stiffened. “Don’t talk like that, Snips. We’ll figure this out.”

Now Palpatine was talking. “At this time, I am calling the jury to make their decision. The court is adjourned.”

Anakin left the courtroom with a knot in his stomach. This was it. It was out of his hands now, and there was nothing he could do. He paced the corridor, not caring that he was bumping into Senators and aides. He had more important things on his mind than manners.

“Anakin,” called a familiar voice. The Knight looked up to see Palpatine heading towards him.

“Chancellor,” Anakin said, “she’s innocent—she didn’t do it. Isn’t there anything you can do?”

Palpatine shook his head, looking defeated. “I’m afraid not, my dear boy. The evidence against her is very strong. If I were to declare her innocent, there would be a public outrage. I’m sorry, but there is nothing I can do now.”

Anakin’s last spark of hope went out. “I hate feeling helpless,” he muttered under his breath.

“I truly am sorry, Anakin,” the old man said.

“Thank you,” Anakin said. He couldn’t bring himself to be angry with Palpatine. It wasn’t his fault.

An aide came up to Palpatine. “The jury has reached a decision,” he said gravely.

“Thank you,” the Chancellor said and dismissed the aide. “Come along, Anakin. Best to get this over with.”

* * *

 

They moved Ahsoka to and back from the cell a little too quickly. The jury couldn’t have reached a verdict that soon… right?

 _I hope Anakin comes back_ , she thought, taking her seat again. No matter what the decision was, she needed him there. He probably wouldn’t come back, though. He still hadn't gotten over that nasty habit of running away from his problems.

Anakin entered the courtroom and took his place beside Ahsoka.

 _Don’t worry,_ he said, using the still-shaky bond, _even if you do get sentenced to prison, I’ll keep looking for evidence. I won’t go back to the front lines unless I have someone to watch my back._

Ahsoka didn’t remind him of the other possibility, thankful he had returned. _No… don’t worry about me. The galaxy needs you more than I do. Besides, at least I’ll finally be safe. In a cell, but safe._

Anakin tried to smile, but the corners of his mouth wouldn’t turn up. _Can’t imagine that would be a very fun way to spend the rest of the war, though._

Their silent conversation was interrupted by Palpatine calling the court to order.

“The jury has reached a verdict,” the Chancellor announced, and one of the jury members stood up.

“We find the defendant… guilty of all charges.”

Ahsoka hissed like she’d been burned with a lightsaber as the juror returned to their seat. She had seen this coming, but it still caught her off guard. After _everything_ she had done for the Republic, for the Jedi, they seemed rather eager to end her life.

But as she traced her eyes over the courtroom, it started to shock her less and less. This wasn’t just a trial—it was a military tribunal.

Practically everyone who had her fate in their hands played some part in the Republic’s cause. And if there was one thing she had learned, you didn’t mess with patriots.

Tarkin turned to her, his face twisted with barely contained triumph. “What do you plead, Padawan Tano?”

Ahsoka looked straight ahead, not even bothering to make eye contact with him. “Not guilty.”

Palpatine paused, and then nodded in agreement with the jury member, straightening his robes. “I too find the defendant guilty of all charges. She is sentenced to… death by execution.” He rapped the gavel down. “Case closed.”

Anakin stared up at the Chancellor, a numb feeling spreading through his body.

_Execution. Execution._

The word looped like a second heartbeat inside his mind as he tried to process this. He turned to his Padawan. “They can’t do this,” he said fiercely, “I won’t let them.”

“They just _did_ .” Ahsoka placed her head in her hands. She couldn’t take Anakin’s Force-awful, _useless_ ranting right then. It was crowding out whatever few thoughts not consumed by anger and fear she had left.

Anakin felt hollow. He stared up at the platform that Palpatine had occupied moments before.

 _How could he do this?_ he wondered. This whole trial had been terribly unfair—Ahsoka had never stood a chance.

He stalked over to Tarkin, who was collecting all the evidence together. “You’ve just helped sentence an innocent Padawan to death,” he said harshly. “I hope you’re pleased.”

Tarkin merely looked at him. “The evidence was more than enough to convict her, General Skywalker,” the Admiral said. “If you were not convinced, I’d say you’re deluding yourself. Good day.”

As Tarkin left the courtroom, Anakin wondered if he had ever felt more helpless.

When Ahsoka finally pulled her head out of her hands, the clones that had been standing stiffly to one side of the room were practically swarming around her.

“You’re going to kill me _now_?” she asked emptily, closing her eyes and giving no hint that she intended to move. “Well, that’s rude.”

One of the clones—the captain—rolled his eyes behind his helmet. “We’re just taking you back to your holding cell. Besides, _we’re_ not going to kill you.”

Ahsoka raised an eyemarking, but didn’t open her eyes. “Then who is?”

“General Skywalker.” The clone sounded annoyed. “Now come on.”

No. Surely the Force couldn’t be that cruel.

“What?” The word was torn from Anakin’s mouth before he could stop it. “On whose orders, Captain?”

“It’s protocol, sir,” replied the clone. “This is how it’s been for hundreds of years. Now move along.”

Anakin didn’t wait around to see if Ahsoka put up a struggle. He left the courtroom at a very fast walk. He needed to find Master Windu.

_Can they really make me kill Ahsoka? Whose rules are these?_

Windu was waiting for him in the corridor outside the courtroom.

“I am sorry to hear of the verdict,” the Jedi Master said, expressionless, as always.

“They can’t really expect _me_ to carry out the execution, can they? This is ridiculous!” Anakin didn’t even bother to acknowledge Windu’s sympathy. It wasn’t worth his time.

“Yes, Skywalker, they can,” Windu informed him. “It is rare that a sentence like this is given to a Padawan, but when it is, it is the Master’s job to carry through with the execution. It’s been this way for thousands of years.”

“I won’t do it. Find someone else.” _Or, better yet, call off the sentence._

“I’m afraid you have no choice,” Windu told him. “If you don’t follow through with the court’s orders, you risk the same sentence.”

“I can’t do it,” Anakin said quietly.

“Skywalker…” Windu sighed.

_If he says anything about letting go of our attachments, I’m going to feed him his lightsaber._

Windu must have seen a dangerous look in his eyes, because he didn’t continue. “The execution is in 45 minutes. If you aren’t there, there will be consequences.”

Anakin didn’t respond, just walked away. The Jedi had failed him again.

* * *

 

Ahsoka was in her cell, facedown on the hard duracrete floor, even though it was already dark. She didn’t want to see a world that would unfairly sentence her to death. And make Master Skywalker do the deed.

Despite this, their bond was still repairing itself. She could already sense his guilt and pain.

There was a shuffling sound, and she turned her head to see what it was. Just another stupid clone.

“What?” She narrowed her eyes. “What _now_?”

“Do you have a… um…” The clone sounded nervous. He was definitely new. “You’re supposed to have a last request.”

Ahsoka looked at the soldier long and hard. “Take me to Anakin Skywalker.”

* * *

 

Anakin glared at his comlink. “I _know_ you’ve collected all the evidence you can, but were there any records in the medical bay of the transformation chamber being used within the last week?”

“I do not know, sir. I haven’t checked,” the forensics droid replied.

“Get on that, then,” Anakin ordered. “And if there’s nothing there, check every other transformation chamber on Coruscant!”

“Of course, sir,” said the droid, then hung up. Anakin stared at the comm for a second, then shook himself and started pacing the room. This was his only lead—he just hoped they would be able to find something.

“Sir,” said a clone at the door, “Padawan Tano is here to see you. Should we let her in?”

“Of course,” Anakin said, turning. He willed his fear away as best as he could as the door opened again.

Ahsoka stumbled into the room, and the young clone pulled the barrel of his gun back. “Don’t stall.”

The padawan grit her teeth as she caught herself, throwing a look over her shoulder. “Go away. For your sake. Because I have nothing to lose by hurting you at this point.”

The clone stiffened and quickly backed out of the room. “Sorry…” The door closed with a _whoosh_. Anakin and Ahsoka were alone.

Anakin just looked at his Padawan for a moment before dropping his head into his hands. He had been through slavery, torture, he had lost his mother and he had lost his arm, but he didn’t think any of those hurt as much as the knowledge of what he would have to do.

 _Keep it together,_ he told himself, _you’re not the one with a death sentence._

He looked up at Ahsoka. “I won’t tell anyone if you were to quickly jump out the window.”

Ahsoka snorted. “They’d probably kill you in my place. Or something.” She didn’t have the heart to tell Anakin she just didn’t feel like it. Running away was too much at this point.

Anakin shrugged listlessly. “It was worth a try.” He sighed.

 _Ahsoka… whatever happens… I was proud to have you as my Padawan,_ he told her through the bond.

Ahsoka sent him the mental equivalent of a smile, though her face showed no outward change in expression. She just wasn’t quite in the mood.

 _What’s with the past tense? I’m not dead yet. And thanks… that means a lot. Call me crazy, but sometimes I had… doubts._ She paused. _You’re not exactly the most affectionate person. No offense. Anyways… it was_ — is— _an honor. I’m proud to have you as my Master. I couldn’t have asked for a better one._

Anakin smiled sadly at her. _We make a good team, don’t we?_

 _Present tense,_ he reminded himself. _She isn’t gone yet._

 _Yeah. We do._ Ahsoka noticed his tense switch, but didn’t comment. _So, what do you want to do for the next twenty minutes? That doesn’t involve… hands_. She twitched her still cuffed wrists.

Anakin looked ruefully at his own useless mechanical arm. Then he sat down, cross-legged on the floor. He gestured to the spot next to him. “How do you feel about meditation?” he asked dryly.

“That works.” Ahsoka managed to maneuver onto the floor next to him without falling over. _Sorry about your hand… that was just insult to injury. Along with the rant about you not being a Jedi._ She winced.

Anakin gave a half shrug. That rant seemed so insignificant when faced with death.  _Don’t worry about it. It’ll be easy to fix, anyway. I’m sorry I kept your turn to the dark side from you._

Ahsoka avoided Anakin’s eyes. She didn’t… want to talk about it, silly as that was. _It’s fine. You were just trying to protect me_.

Anakin sensed Ahsoka’s unease. _How about we just sit here for a while?_ he suggested. _Don’t talk_ — _one of the first rules of meditation._

Ahsoka nodded, relieved that Anakin didn’t press on with the subject. _Yeah. One I think I broke a thousand times. But okay._

Anakin smiled, closing his eyes. _We’re a lot alike, you and I,_ he said again. But this time, he meant it as a good thing.

And so they sat there, in tense silence, counting down the time like a bomb.

* * *

 

“Sir.” A clone poked his head in. “General Windu said to tell you it’s time.”

Ahsoka stiffened, knocked painfully out of her meditation. So much for inner peace. She dared a glance at her master, hoping he wasn’t going to do something crazy.

Anakin speared the clone with a sharp glare. “Yes, thank you,” he said in a voice that clearly meant ‘get out’.

“I’m here to escort the prisoner,” said the clone, not taking the hint.

“I believe I can handle that task just fine,” Anakin said sharply.

“General Windu was very clear,” replied the clone. “Please come with me, or I will have to use force.”

Anakin shot a sideways glance at his Padawan. It would be up to her now.

“Just let him. What’s Windu going to do? Skin you alive with one of his glares?” Ahsoka snorted at the thought. Her voice was eerily at ease for someone who would be dead in less than an hour. “Trust me—we’re not going to run off.”

Anakin got to his feet. “Alright… come on, Snips.” He headed slowly for the door. Maybe, if they were late enough, they would be forced to reschedule the execution. He dismissed such childish thoughts and waited for Ahsoka to catch up.

Ahsoka got to her feet, a sigh escaping from her lips. “Coming, Master.”

She hurried after the Jedi Knight, glancing out the windows lining the empty corridor. It was late now, and stars, barely visible, twinkled above the white haze of Coruscant’s lights. She bit her lip, looking away. She wasn’t going to get sentimental. There would be time for that… later.

Anakin had lead men to their deaths before. But never deliberately. This—leading his apprentice through the hallways, to her execution—felt so _wrong_ that it was almost a physical struggle for him to keep walking.

 _I can’t do this,_ he thought. _I can’t._

It was not long before they arrived at the execution chamber. Genuinely hating himself, Anakin opened the door and stepped inside.

Ahsoka followed and was nearly knocked back out. The smell. Oh, Force,  _the smell._ Though the room was so clean she swore it sparkled more than the stars she’d just finished gazing at, it had a horrible stench. Like… well, _death_. And it wasn’t just the smell of the room. She could sense the fear of every person who had ever been killed inside of it, whose lifeless body had ever went limp on its floor.

Gagging, she joined Anakin inside. There were way too many people there. Palpatine. Tarkin. Master Windu. Obi-Wan. Barriss. And, worst of all, Plo Koon. The Jedi who had brought her to the Temple. She swallowed as a wave of shame washed over her. She wasn’t guilty of _any_ of the crimes, of course, but she had disappointed him.

Still, she tried giving the Kel Dor man a small smile. All he did was look away.

Obi-Wan joined them at the door. “Anakin,” he said in a low voice. “I’m sorry you have to do this. I tried to get them to reconsider, but they were most insistent that this was the traditional way.”

Anakin didn’t say a word. He didn’t want pity. He wanted to be _useful._ Part of him wanted to run from this awful room, away from the screams of the dead. But he wouldn’t abandon Ahsoka, not now.

“Proceed,” Tarkin said, picking a small piece of lint off of his jacket. “Unlike _someone_ here, we actually have lives to attend to after this. Do I have to shoot her myself?” He looked pointedly at Ahsoka, who for the first time was more hurt than angered by one of his comments.

Tarkin waved a hand at two clones standing silently by the door and pointed at Ahsoka, who said nothing as they forced her to her knees in the center of the room. The Jedi Order hated her, Tarkin had finally succeeded in upsetting her and her Master was to be her executor. She was out of words.

Palpatine read from a datapad with the official Senate seal on it. “Ahsoka Tano, you are hereby sentenced to death for your crimes against the Galactic Republic, which include treason, terrorism, murder and arson.” He looked up at Anakin apologetically. “Would the executioner please step forward?”

Anakin took a few halting steps to the middle of the room to stand beside his apprentice. He knew all eyes were on him now, but he didn’t look at anyone.

Ahsoka’s chest ached. It was like her heart and lungs were trying to beat and breathe as many times as they could before they were stopped.

 _I am so sorry_ , she sent to Anakin, not looking up as he came to stand beside her. This was going to kill him, even more than it would her.

 _No, Snips,_ he told her, aware that his mental voice was cracking. _I’m sorry, that I couldn’t save you from this._ He swallowed hard. … _from me._

“Get on with it!” Tarkin said briskly and Anakin decided that, all things considered, Tarkin was an idiot. He used the Force to shut Tarkin’s mouth. Hopefully that would startle him enough that he would stop talking for a few minutes.

“If you cannot perform this task, we will have someone else do it,” a Senate aide piped up. “But you may face trial and imprisonment for failure to comply with court orders.”

Anakin slowly removed his lightsaber from his utility belt, aware that his hand was shaking. He held the weapon so tightly that the metal creaked in protest.

Ahsoka flinched as the blade hummed to life, bathing her in a wave of blue light and heat.

Finally, she lost her composure. A tear ran down her face. More followed, until she was full on crying. She didn’t try to fight the tears or sob, though her breathing was more ragged than ever. She just let them come, quietly, fingers holding tightly onto the criss-crossed grate that was the floor.

She knew her fear was sending out waves in the Force. The fear that at any moment, Anakin would bring down his weapon and she would be dead.

It was frightening how cruel the Force could be. That no matter how many thousands of times Anakin raised his lightsaber to defend her, it would only take him once to bring it down to kill her.

Trying to stop her crying, trying to regain some shred of dignity in her final moments, she focused on happier times.

Bad move.

It only made everything worse. Every conversation, every joke, every training session, every smile, _every single moment_ seemed to rush back and flash before her eyes and, ultimately, overwhelm her.

As her tears began to flow harder and tiny sobs began to escape her lips, she vaguely wondered why only things having to do with her and her Master had been seen, though she already knew the answer.

She hadn’t lived until she had met Anakin Skywalker.

 _I… didn’t think it would end like this_ , she sent him, mental voice just as tortured and choked as her verbal one would be. It was hard to manage even that.

She tried calming down again, grabbing hold of the bond with her mind like it was a lifeline, though she knew knowing just how upset she was would only make things even harder for Anakin. But it was all she had left.

 _Neither did I,_ Anakin whispered through the bond.

He wasn’t going to cry. He wouldn’t, he was stronger than that. But he could feel emotion bubbling up within him, threatening to smother him. She was kneeling before him, looking smaller and younger than he had ever seen her. He could feel their bond shaking with fear and negative emotions, both his and hers. When Anakin moved, she flinched, afraid that movement would be the end of her.

She was scared of _him_  and that was breaking him.

When he had met her, two years ago, he had never expected that she would meet her end by his own hand.

His own hand.

“Force, I can’t do this,” he choked out. His voice echoed through the silent room. This was destroying him, inch by inch. With trembling hands, he raised his lightsaber--just as the door flew open.

“Sir, I have the records you requested,” announced the annoying forensics droid from the Temple.

Everyone stared.

Relief flooded through Anakin as he stared at the droid. He knew it wouldn’t have interrupted the execution unless it had found evidence—solid evidence. He deactivated his lightsaber and let it drop to the floor. Quickly, he snatched the datapad from the droid and read over all the records from the transformation chambers of Coruscant.

A satisfied grin pulled at his lips as he read over the records from the fourth chamber. “You there,” he said to the two clones standing guard, “free Padawan Tano. There will be no execution today.”

Tarkin spluttered as the clones immediately did as the Jedi asked. “General Skywalker, that is a convicted criminal! You can’t just—”

“Here is the evidence that she was framed,” Anakin interrupted triumphantly. “A Temple worker’s wife, Letta Turmond, used a transformation chamber four days ago to turn herself into a carbon copy of Padawan Tano. As Letta Turmond is now dead, you have a new investigation to open up, isn’t that right Admiral Tarkin?”

As Tarkin didn’t appear to remember how to form complete sentences, Anakin handed him the datapad so he could see for himself. “I expect a full pardon for Padawan Tano, as well as an apology from the Senate for wrongful imprisonment _and_ emotional trauma.” He narrowed his eyes at the Admiral. “Also, stay away from the courtrooms in the future. They’re clearly not your area.”

Ahsoka froze as her handcuffs fell to the floor with a clang, and she lifted her head to stare at Anakin.

This had to be some kind of post mortem hallucination, because it had been so close. She had been so close. So _close_ to death she could have brushed her fingers up against it.

She tried to stand, only to collapse back onto her knees. She buried her head in her hands as the relief washed over her, and for a moment she just sat there, trying to comprehend it all.

 _Thank you_ , she sent her Master, finally managing to jump shakily to her feet and throw her arms around him with so much force she nearly toppled them both over. She knew the Council would never, _ever_ shut up about it, but she didn’t care. _Thank you so much._

Anakin was momentarily shocked—neither he nor his Padawan were big on physical contact, especially with half the Council standing right there, but then he decided he didn’t care and returned the hug.

Her force signature was vibrant in the Force, bright and happy and _alive._ He hugged her tighter, remembering just _how_ close she had been to death.

 _Don’t mention it._ He pulled back and studied her, fairly sure that his expression matched hers: relieved.

“I think it’s time we got out of here,” he said, the smell starting to make him sick. “Anywhere in particular you want to go, now that you’re not a fugitive anymore?”

 _Padmè’s house_ , Ahsoka answered through the bond, purposefully not saying it aloud. _I love the Temple and all, but honestly, I don’t want to see its oversized face right now. Or in a week._ She paused for a moment, and then wrinkled her nose. _Ugh, he smell in here is horrible. I’m pretty sure it was what was making your hand shake, Skyguy._

Anakin decided not to correct her on that. _I don’t blame you, Snips,_ he said, _I’d rather stay away from the Temple for a while as well. Let’s go._

* * *

 

Anakin was stopped on his way out the door by the Chancellor. He made a quick motion for Ahsoka to go on ahead, then turned back.

“Anakin, I can’t tell you how sorry I am for this whole mess,” Palpatine said, sincerity ringing in every word. “I will get an investigation going immediately to find out who hired Letta Turmond and I assure you, they will be brought to justice.”

“You’ll forgive me if I don’t think too much of Coruscant’s justice system anymore, Chancellor,” Anakin said dryly.

“Of course, Anakin,” Palpatine said, inclining his head. “Changes are in order… and perhaps that change will come soon.”

Anakin blinked. Something had flashed across the Chancellor’s face there for a second… something that made him look… almost evil…

He supposed it must have been a trick of the lighting, because the next second, he looked no different than ever.

“I look forward to the change, Chancellor,” he said. He saw Mace Windu heading toward him and frowned. The Jedi Master was possibly the last person he wanted to talk to at the moment. “I really should be going now.” And with that, Anakin escaped the room of politicians and Jedi.

* * *

 

Ahsoka sat in the passenger seat of Anakin’s borrowed speeder, watching the city blaze past through nearly closed eyes.

“I wasn’t going to tell, you know. About you and Padmè,” she said softly, voice hoarse from crying, even though she knew Anakin was tired too and distracting him from the road wouldn’t make them much safer.

“I realize that now,” Anakin replied. “But at the time… I was angry, I wasn’t thinking straight, I was tired from chasing you all over Coruscant and I didn’t know whether you were trustworthy. I don’t really even know what happened.”

“You snapped. That’s all. We… both did.” Ahsoka rubbed at her wrists. They were still sore from the cuffs. “Look, I trusted you to get me out of that mess, even at the last second. _You_ have to trust _me_ now.”

Anakin smiled slightly at her, briefly taking his eyes off the traffic. They had a long way to go before they were back to the old Skyguy and Snips, but this was a good start. A new beginning, perhaps.

“Ahsoka,” he said quietly, “I _do_ trust you.”

And maybe trust was all they needed.

 


End file.
